Hey Aang!
by pinkfloyd1770
Summary: Sometimes we think we have it all: talent, beauty, drive, only to be denied the one thing we really want. In Azula's case, that thing happens to be a certain kindhearted, do-gooding arrow-head named Aang. Randomness inspired by watching Hey Arnold!
1. Chapter 1

_This is quite a random idea that occurred to me when I was watching episodes of Hey Arnold a few days ago. For anyone who happens to be familiar with that show, it's going to follow the basic plot mechanics of episodes in which Helga (Azula) is going to be obsessing over and scheming up ways to get Arnold (Aang) to notice her without actually confessing her feelings. This is short because I'm not sure how it will go over, but I'll continue it for a few more chapters. There will be other characters, including Zuko as well as the rest of the Fire Nation family. _

"Aang." She said the name like a curse, her lips curling back, her teeth barring, her fists clenching. "What a fool, what a weakling, what a naïve little over-bearing do-gooder. I hate him." She looked towards the sky, expecting it to acknowledge her declaration. "And yet..." Now she relaxed, head moving and eyes darting back and forth as she slipped around the side of the school building, away from prying eyes. She leaned against the brick, heart beating faster, cheeks flushed, as she reached into a pocket and drew out the locket, made of finely wrought gold and attached to a delicate chain.

"I love him." She confessed to the portrait cupped in her hands. "The way he's always helping others regardless of their gross inadequacies, the way he helps them compensate for the fact that they were born into inferior families and have no discernible talent or drive." She looked to the sky again, this time beseeching it.

"So why doesn't he notice me, Azula, the epitome of beauty, intelligence and potential?"

She pushed off the wall and began to pace, the locket in her outstretched hand. "I know I may not always be the nicest person in the world, or the most considerate, but surely that isn't the most important thing to him, is it?" She sighed. "Fortuna that has blessed me so, birthing me under a strong sign and gracing me with my glorious attributes, won't you grant me this one small desire, that Aang might notice me and look at me with desire?" She paused, her nail tracing her chin. "No, no. that's stupid." Then she snapped her fingers. "Yes! That's it! I'm smart, beautiful, clever. That's how I've gotten where I am, father's favorite, best in my class, ahead of Zuko and his tiresome, emo tantrums. Aang just hasn't noticed me because he's never really seen me at my best, never accentuating my womanly attributes, never trampling over those morons in class. I'll do it." She pressed the locket against her heart with both hands. "I'll show my love just how wonderful I really am, and then he'll be awestruck and powerless to resist me. I'll be like a phoenix before him, soaring from the ashes of my previous failures to shine." She closed her eyes and smiled, content with her plan until she heard footsteps behind her, and that tell-tale sound of heavy breathing and snorting. Bumi's grandson...she never remembered his name.

Her eyes narrowed. She could feel the breath on her neck. A few more steps and they'd be touching, front to back. Her arm snapped up, fist landing squarely between his eyes. As he collapsed in a heap behind her, she straightened her shirt and tucked the locket back in her pocket, smiling again as she did so. _Truly the perfect plan. _


	2. Chapter 2

_This chapter is quite a bit longer, and actually has some kind of plot. There's a bit of serious conversation in here, but I don't think it detracts too much from the general levity of the story, since Zuko's life will also be considered in here, along with Azula's antics. _

"One side, Zuko." Azula shoved her brother away from the bathroom door just as he was about to open it.

"But I need to use..." he sputtered, only to be interrupted.

She waved her hand. "Whatever trivial problem you have, it can wait."

"I need to use the bathroom!"

She paused in closing the door, leaning over to reach for something. "Here." She tossed something at him. It slipped out of his left hand and he barely managed to catch it with the index finger of his other hand. Azula rolled her eyes.

He stared at what she'd thrown at him before his face screwed up again. "I am not peeing in a vase!"

She shrugged. "Then don't. Either wait, or do it in your pants." She closed the door, only to open it a moment later. "Oh, and don't get too excited about that. I don't think mother is going to give you any extra special attention for wetting your pants like she did when you were five."

"I did not wet the bed when I was five!"

"And what a wonderful achievement that was." The door closed on his tantrum.

"Now..." Azula spun to face the mirror, pursing her lips and running her hands through her hair, which she'd left down. It fell almost to her waist, covering her shoulders and flanking her face, accentuating her pale skin and bright eyes.

"Yes, that's good, good. I've been complemented on my complexion before. And my lips...it won't do any good to go with the shade I usually do. Something lighter..." She took the tube and had just touched it to her lips when the silence was broken.

"Why are you talking to yourself? I have to go to the bathroom!"

Her hand slipped, leaving a pale, red streak along her cheek. "Shut up, Zuko, or I'll take the rest of the morning in here."

"It's a school day, in case you haven't noticed. I don't think dad would be too happy with you if he found out you skipped school just to have some personal therapy session with yourself in the bathroom."

"Hmm, and I'm sure he'd be thrilled to hear about all those private "torturing" sessions that Mai is giving you in your room on a regular basis. Tell me Zuko, just how long do you have to practice to get to second base?"

Only silence. She could just see him, hands at his sides in tight fists, classic scowl scrunching his face. After a few minutes she'd finished with her face, and moved to the clothing that she'd left hanging on the door knob the previous night. Returning to the mirror, she inspected herself, turning once, then in profile on either side, before standing straight in front. She'd left the two strands of hair that usually flanked her face, and had tied part of her hair in a loose ponytail, letting the rest flow freely down her back. She smiled, a small gesture that displayed her lips like soft flower petals.

Another knock. "Azula, your brother needs to use the bathroom. Now." The rebuke died on her lips, and she just sighed. _Grow up, Zuko. _

"Coming, mother."

She opened the door, her mother's face flashing from stern authority to speechless surprise.

"Azula, what..."

Zuko rushed passed her, the vase leaving his hands. Azula caught it and handed it to her mother.

"Poor Zuzu. So clumsy sometimes."

Her mother regained her composure. "Azula, why are you dressed like that?"

"This?" She smiled and gave a small laugh, one she'd often heard Ty Lee use, and never thought she'd have to resort to. "It's just something I wanted to try out."

Ursa shook her head. "For what reason?" She paused. "Are you seeing a boy?"

"Of course not." She may have spoken too quickly, because she saw her mother's eyes narrow slightly. The door opened, and Zuko emerged looking like Mai had just decided to accelerate him in their tutoring process. _Well at least he was useful for something. _

"Come on, Zuko," she said, grabbing his hand. "We'll be late, as you so astutely pointed out."

With that, she pulled him down the stairs and out the door before their mother could question her further, grabbing the bag she'd left on the table beside the door as she went.

"Now you're in a hurry?" He stared at her incredulously as he stopped to sling his own bag over his shoulder.

"Mother was drilling me again, and I didn't feel like playing the role of miscreant daughter with her."

"Whatever." He walked after her for a few paces and stopped. "Why are you wearing that?"

She shook her head, again too fast. "No reason. I just wanted to look...nice today."

"Nice? For what? Happy hour?"

"Shut up, Zuko." Her cheeks were flushed, and she walked faster, hand over the locket.

He increased his speed to catch up. "Hmm..." He made the musing sound in the back of his throat, almost too low to hear.

"What?" She turned on him as they waited at a crossing.

He didn't respond right away. They crossed in silence, Zuko still looking pensive. "Wait...you don't have a...boyfriend, do you?"

"No, idiot, I don't, and if you don't want to wear your bag as vest, you'll stop asking questions."

"Ok, fine. Just curious."

"Save it for school. You could use some motivation."

"Yeah, right. Like dad'll care if I barely pass or get straight A's. He hasn't even asked to see my report card since middle school, and he only looks at it now because mom makes him."

"I'm sure he cares deep down." _Maybe I should have worn my hair up instead. He might not like the fact that I'm emphasizing my skin. Or maybe he likes long hair..._

She stopped and turned. Zuko was walking at a deliberately slow pace, the kind that she usually shoved people aside for. She waited for him to catch up to her.

"Does it really bother you that much?"

Zuko sighed. "You don't understand, Azula. He hangs on everything you say. You could bring home a stick figure from your art class and he'd frame it and hang in in his study."

"We both know that's not true, Zuko."

"Whatever. The point is, it doesn't matter how well I do or not. In his eyes, I'll never be as good as you, and that's that."

She almost turned away and continued her walk, but stopped. Slowly, tentatively, she reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, like he was a stranger she was trying to comfort. He looked at her in surprise, his melancholy dispelling immediately. "Mother appreciates what you do, Zuko. She's...proud, of you. And father..." _will come around? Yeah, right. And then little aliens will found a colony in my nose. _

"Thanks," he said softly, again saving her. He smiled, something rare. It wasn't like when Aang smiled. She didn't feel light and foolish and ready to speak before thinking, but it brightened her nevertheless. He cleared his throat. "All right. Let's get to class."

The crowds were already thin as she walked through the halls; she'd thought ahead and taken everything she'd needed the day before, not having to stop on the way. Once she reached the door, she paused and took a breath, straightening out her shift again. She stopped midway. _Don't make it a habit. You'll look like an idiot. _Clearing her throat, she opened the door and stepped in.

Whatever idle conversations had been going on stopped as soon as she entered the room. From what she could tell, every pair of eyes had fixed itself on her, overriding any desire to speak. She took the silence as encouraging and walked across the front of the room, moving with deliberate poise. Finally, someone broke the silence, clearing their throat.

"Uh, Azula...you look...different." It was Aang. She nearly burst.

"Oh, you mean this? It's just something I had lying around the house."

"You live in a strip club?" Sokka snickered, causing everyone else in the class to follow suit, except Aang, though Azula didn't notice as she rounded on Sokka, eyes narrow, an almost feral noise forming in her throat. He stopped dead and sank lower in his seat. _Idiot. _He may have had a talent for science, but he never bothered with social sciences or humanities. She took her seat without further incident, favoring everyone around her with one final glare before settling down.

"Wow, Azula, your outfit is really nice. Where did you get it?" Ty Lee leaned forward to get a better look at the short black skirt and form-fitting top.

Azula sighed. "I bought it at a store, Ty Lee. Just like everything else I own. Anyway, it didn't work out the way I wanted."

Her friend frowned. "What didn't work out?"

"Nothing. It's not important now." _But he did ask. He said I looked...interesting. Does that mean he thought I was ridiculous? Or tawdry. Maybe he doesn't like women who dress like that. But he does like women, so he must have liked me dressed like that. _

Her thought was interrupted as the door opened again and their instructor walked in. He began the class by reminding them that they were reading through the Epic of Gilgamesh."

Azula scoffed. He placed the wrong emphasis on the syllables, without elongating the _a. _He was walking them through the reading, asking if anyone had any questions or insights.

Azula sat up in her seat. _This is it. I'll impress him with my knowledge and grasp of literature. _Her hand shot up.

"Yes, Azula?"

"I would like to give my thoughts regarding the text."

"All right. You may begin."

She smiled and stood, satisfied that Aang was looking at her. Speaking as she walked, she moved down the aisle, her previous poise surfacing.

"Death pervades literature, from Shakespeare to Beckett. It can be present as a central theme, or a looming omen, it can be portrayed as a slow, methodical force gradually ebbing away at the characters in the work, or as a violent, dramatic burst." She paused for effect. They were hanging on her every word. Even Sokka was leaning forward, his normally glazed expression during the textual lecture replaced by avid interest. And Aang. She had his full attention. She pressed on.

"In the classical world, death was viewed with both reverence and fear. In the works of Homer, the glory of the warrior, his worth as an individual, are determined by his prowess in combat, and the manner of his death. But the archetype of the story of death, the fear and reverence it inspires in humans, lies in Gilgamesh. The struggle against death, the desperation it inspires when you're so desperate to achieve a goal that seems insurmountable." She was now close to Aang's desk, her eyes fixed on his as she spoke. He gave a nervous smile and she was about to continue, but the words died on her lips as she saw Aang cast a quick glance at the girl sitting next to him. Just a short aversion of his eyes, but..._Katara. _Azula's hands formed claws. _He's always fawning over that blue-eyed bimbo, trying so hard to impress her just because she's compassionate, thoughtful and plays hard to get. What a flousy. _

She cleared her throat and moved on, next to Sokka's desk, hand resting on his shoulder. He looked around nervously. "But Gilgamesh fought on regardless, challenging all those who thought that he was incapable of conquering his foe." As she spoke her hand tightened. Sokka gave a whimper and his eyes widened. "Did he grieve for his lost friend? Yes, but he overcame that grief and moved forward." Now her nails were digging into Sokka's shoulder.

"Ah, Azula, I can't feel my arm..."

"And even though, in the end, he had to admit defeat, he was still able to find solace in the fact that his legacy, the walls of his city, would live on long after him." Her eyes fell to Katara again, and her body tensed further.

"Azula..." Sokka whined out, struggling in vain to detach himself from her grip.

"So in the end, he achieved his goal in the face of all his obstacles. That's what we must take away from the story. You must face your opponents, whether they be human and physical, or mental and metaphysical." She released Sokka, and relief spread across his face, only to be washed away as Azula's fist came hammering down, landing on top of his outstretched hand.

"Victory. That's the ultimate goal." She looked around. The room was as silent as it had been when she'd first entered, all except for Sokka.

"Oww..." He tried to tend to his hand and shoulder in equal measure, wincing whenever he moved one body part to help the other. "I hate this class," he moaned and placed his head down.

"Wow." Aang spoke again, looking shocked.

Azula smiled in spite of herself.

"Ah, thank you Azula. That was a very...enthusiastic interpretation, to say the least. You may take your seat."

She barely heard him. Aang had said only one word, and it was ambiguous at that. Now he'd turned in his desk at was talking to Katara. Again, again. Always. She sat with resignation. Ty Lee was much more enthusiastic.

"That was great Azula. It was inspiring and thoughtful, and a little scary all at the same time."

Azual sighed. "Yes, I suppose it was." She drew arrows in her notebook for the rest of the class, hats with arrows, just like the one Aang wore everywhere, hot or cold. The instructor finally dismissed them with an assignment that Ty Lee would have dutifully copied down to hand her after class. She filed out of the room without much enthusiasm, stopping only to drop off books she didn't need.

"Ty Lee, go save me a seat, the third one down, next to the window."

"All right." Her friend nodded and moved off, the usual energy in her step.

Azula waited until there was no one near her before moving to the end of the hall, her back to the room she'd just come from. She looked around before pulling out her locket, holding it in just one hand.

"Oh Aang, I did my best to court you, first with my sensual wiles, then with my astute mind, and yet you were unmoved, choosing instead your simple, yet overbearing childhood friend." Again her grip made her knuckles white. She lifted her head. "Must I always walk as your shadow, forever underfoot, forever ignored only to wither and fade in the false sunlight of that other, that false, impecunious temptress with poor fashion sense? Must I..."

"Uh, Azula?"

The locket almost slipped from her hand and she went rigid, frantically putting the piece back in her pocket as she turned around to see what she'd been drawing for the last half hour.

Aang stood in front of her, an expression of curiosity on his face, his eyebrows raised.

_He looks so innocent, so thoughtful. "_Aang," she spoke softly before shaking her head. "Don't ever sneak up on me like that again, you little arrow-headed street urchin." She inwardly winced at her diatribe, but kept a steady face.

He looked surprised at first, but plowed forward. "Sorry, but I just wanted to ask you..."

_If I'll run away with you to live a life of care-free marital bliss punctuated by impromptu voyages around the world?_

"_..._if you really meant what you said in class today?"

"Hmm? What do you mean?"

"I mean..." He frowned for a moment. "Do you really think that the whole point of that book is how you should always try to be victorious, no matter what?"

"Of course," she spoke stiffly. "Why else would I have given such a passionate response?" _My love is so observant._

"Well, I mean. I was just thinking that when I read it, I thought the point was to be humble in the face of death, and to respect it and its contribution to life. You can't prevent it, but you can do things in your life that will make a difference. I thought you were going with that for little while, but then you got into victory, and I was just wondering if that's what you really felt." He smiled then.

_He's so compassionate. We could read the classics together, him looking for the sentiment in the words, me pointing out the cutting barbs aimed at our cold and jaded society. We'd be the most astute of literary critics. _

"Humility? Please, Aang, don't be such a sentimental fool. Humble people are always trampled by the proud, they never make it ahead, they're always loosing, always being torn down. Why would you submit to that?"

Aang didn't looked phased. "But Gilgamesh had to be humble in the end, or else he would have died miserable, without ever realizing what really mattered in his life." He smiled then. "Winning is nice, but I think in the end, you have to realize that there are things much larger than yourself, and you can't control everything." He paused, waiting to see if she'd speak. When she didn't he exhaled and looked up for a moment. "Well, thanks for listening. I just thought you might find another view point interesting. See you in class."

She maintained her glare, even as he turned and moved away. Her face only relaxed once he'd turned the corner at the end of the hall. She smiled, bringing her hands together against her chest.

"He spoke to me." It had been a good idea after all.


End file.
